


thicker than water

by zogratiscest



Series: black clover kinktober [8]
Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sappy, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: dante doesn't mind the taste of blood.
Relationships: Dante Zogratis/Vanica Zogratis, Dante Zogratis/Vanica Zogratis/Zenon Zogratis
Series: black clover kinktober [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952167
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	thicker than water

Dante Zogratis loves both of his siblings. More than anyone could ever love their own.

He still remembers the days the two of them were born, Vanica during the peak of the summer heat and Zenon in the dead of the winter cold. Remembers how he felt holding both of them. Young and wowed, still just a child himself, carefully cradling his infant sister and swearing he would do anything to keep her safe and happy. Older and jaded, realizing he would be taking on more responsibility than most young men his age, because of his two siblings, only one of them was planned. Only one of them was wanted.

“Vanica hasn’t been down yet today,” Zenon says from where he sits on the floor in front of a low table, several books spread across its surface. What he is looking for, Dante honestly has no idea. “She might not be feeling well. Should we check on her?”

Humming, Dante pushes himself up from where he was reclining on the couch. Without any tasks to complete and no missions to vanish off to, the three of them have a few lazy days stretching out before them. Not that he minds. The process is a long one, and Dante is endlessly patient as long as he gets what he wants in the end.

He plants a boot on either side of Zenon’s hips, planting his chin on top of his little brother’s head, brushing his knuckles against the front of Zenon’s throat. “Your concern for her is very cute, though I don’t think she’d take well to knowing how much you worry.”

“I don’t worry that much,” Zenon says, turning a page in one of his books like Dante is not wrapped around him, surrounding him. He truly must feel totally safe like this.

“Sometimes, you do.” When Zenon protests, Dante cups a hand around the front of his throat. He does not squeeze, only the sides, only when Zenon asks him to do it, but he lets the warning hang there until Zenon falls silent. “That’s right, baby. You worry.”

The pet name makes Zenon inhale softly, and Dante leans back just so he can kiss the nape of his brother’s neck. He truly,  _ truly _ loves Zenon with all of his heart, but of the three of them, he worries more than Dante or Vanica ever could. The youngest of the family, the  _ baby, _ and despite his stoic expressions and emotionless tones, he still cares the most. Softest around the heart, even though he would swear this is not true.

“Something is probably wrong,” Dante admits. “I’ll just go up and check on her.”

“I think it’s around that time of the month for her. So.” Zenon turns another page in his book, and Dante pauses. Wondering how the fuck his brother can even read this much.

He pushes his fingers down the high collar of Zenon’s shirt, touching the warm, vulnerable skin beneath. Feeling the flutter of his pulse, the even rhythm of his breathing. “Do you keep track of that? My, my. What  _ would _ Vanica do if she knew about that?”

“Punish me for it, probably.” Zenon says it quietly, carelessly, but Dante can feel the skin beneath his fingers warm slightly at the thought. “It’s just…”

When he trails off, Dante shifts closer to him, pressing his ankles against Zenon’s hips. Squeezing just slightly. “Just what? Why are you keeping track of her menstrual cycle?”

“Because she usually feels bad when it happens. At least for the first day or two.” Zenon’s voice drops slightly, quieter than before, like he expects Dante to punish him for this. For worrying about their sister. “I try to know so I can offer to help, if she wants it.”

A good boy.  _ Such _ a good boy that for a moment, Dante hates blindly and without direction, because he killed their parents so long ago that he no longer has them to take out his frustrations on. At least he made it count when he could. At least he made it count when it really hit home just how much they almost lost when it came to this young man, no, this  _ boy _ on the floor between his legs, so still and soft under his touch.

“I see. Well.” Dante kisses him on the top of his head, fixes the collar of his shirt for him. “I’ll go check on Vanica, like I said. And you can go back to whatever you’re working on.”

That gets a deserved huff from Zenon as he turns to look up at Dante, blue eyes hardening back into familiar ice. “I am  _ researching _ while you nap on the couch, Dante.”

“Don’t you know how to relax anymore? All you do is work, even when you don’t have to.” It’s almost endearing, though Dante admittedly does worry about him from time to time. He pushes so hard, like he thinks there is space between them he needs to close.

Zenon is allowed to be weaker, to be slower. Dante did not  _ raise him _ expecting him to reach the same level as himself, as Vanica, in such a short span of time.

“I get bored.” Zenon turns a page in a different book. Maybe he is reading all of them. “Go check on Vanica nee-san, please. She takes to it better when you’re the one doing it.”

Another kiss dropped onto the top of Zenon’s head and Dante stands, carefully slipping from behind him without disturbing his position on the floor. He could tell Zenon why, tell him that Vanica spent so much of their childhood looking after him that it’s instinctual, ingrained in her mind and soul, that Zenon is the one who needs to be looked after. But it’s easier to just let him figure it out in time, and they have plenty of time together.

The castle is quiet this time of day, everyone attending to their tasks, and Dante only sees two servants on his way to the set of stairs that lead up to their private chambers. There is a master bedroom that he claimed after killing the vast majority of House Grinberryall, and bedrooms that belong to both Vanica and Zenon. Both of them go unused.

When Vanica had nightmares as a child, she always snuck into his room, curling up at his side while he stroked her hair and promised her nothing could get her with him near. Years later, Zenon would learn to do the same, though Dante doubts the boy ever had nightmares and simply wanted to be with the two of them without the means to express it yet. Hardly matters to Dante; he has an arm to wrap around each of them and pull them closer, after all, and thinks he may have been just the right type to have two siblings to care for.

He skips checking Vanica’s bedroom altogether and walks straight to the master bedroom, pushing the door open without a word and slipping inside. Sure enough, Vanica is still in bed. He can see the bare pale curve of her shoulder over the top of the comforter, the soft fluffy mess of her sleep-mussed hair spread across the pillow. His poor, darling sister.

She never stays in bed this late unless something is wrong. Zenon is right about that.

“Sweetheart.” Dante interrupts the peaceful quiet of the room as he kicks his boots off just inside the door, leaving them out of the doorway in case Zenon decides to join them.

Vanica shifts slightly on the mattress but says nothing, but Dante knows she is far from asleep. He closes the distance between the door and the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge of it as he stretches out a hand to touch her shoulder. Cool to the touch, almost cold. He doesn’t want her catching a chill and wonders if she might have a fever.

“Darling,” he tries again, and Vanica whines at him, curling tighter into herself, tucking her face away in the comforter. Something is wrong with her, after all. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

His sister is powerful beyond words, a force to be reckoned with, a wild storm given shape and form, motive and movement, and Dante loves her so much. Spoiled her rotten when they were children just because he could, always letting her have her way as long as she was never in any danger, never in harm’s way. He really would move mountains for her.

“Dante-nii,” she finally says. He traces the line of her shoulder again and waits patiently for her, stroking what he hopes are comforting circles into her skin. “It hurts.”

“What hurts?” Zenon was probably right, in this regard. Dante does not keep track of Vanica’s menstrual cycle by any stretch of the imagination, but it usually does leave her laid up in bed one day, or perhaps two if it is particularly bad. He thinks it makes her magic fluctuate too, though she never wants to openly talk about it.

Vanica rolls over to look at him, and his hand moves automatically to smooth her hair back out of her face so he can see her. Her soft, tired eyes, the smudges of shadow beneath them, the twist of her pink, pouted lips. And it’s ridiculous how much he wants to kiss her, as if that can magically undo whatever is wrong with her. She would have come to him as soon as possible if that was the only comfort she was seeking this morning.

He cups her cheek, brushes his thumb along the corner of her mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sore.” Vanica wriggles a little on the mattress, then hisses and rolls back onto her side, this time facing him. Curling herself up small and defenseless like he knows she isn’t. “It hurts every month but it always hurts so bad the first day. I hate it.”

“My poor girl.” Dante stretches himself out on the mattress next to her, petting a hand down her face so he can cup her chin. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

She shrugs at him, and he watches her move under the comforter, probably trying to massage her midsection. He’d thought she might be naked when he first saw her under the comforter, but now he can see she’s still wearing her nightgown, pale fabric making her look like a dark angel that Dante plucked right from heaven’s gates.

Maybe he did. And then he raised her into the perfect wild killer.

“I just have to wait for the cramps to stop, usually. Sometimes I take a bath, but.” Vanica sighs and rubs her hands over her face, and he realizes how tired she is. Maybe it woke her earlier than she likes to be woken. Had she been in bed when he woke up?

He doesn’t remember off the top of his head, but she might have been in bed and then woken up with cramps after, considering how much earlier he wakes up. Or he might have been too preoccupied with making sure Zenon did not sneak off to work early without eating literally anything, as he is wont to do. They really are a bit of a mess.

“Have you eaten today?” Dante leans in to kiss her on the forehead, over the soft airy mess of her hair. “You should. You’ll only feel worse if you don’t eat.”

“I had a servant bring me a few things. I’ve eaten.” Vanica tucks her face against the front of his throat and Dante lets her, cupping his hand around the back of her head so she can stay as close as she likes. “It still hurts. And it makes me sore and tired all day.”

Tired, but hurting too much to sleep. Dante’s heart, long gone black and cold, aches for her. Emotions like this only exist for his siblings, the only two people in this world he could ever truly love. “Can I make you feel better? Take your mind off of it? Just tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you. You know that, though, even better than I do.”

Vanica laughs softly against his throat, the sound vibrating against his skin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He rubs his hand down her back, gathering her against him. She’s just in thin silk, and at least feels warmer than her shoulder had. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Well… One of the servants said something, since I have you wrapped around my little finger.” Vanica giggles this time, and Dante arches an eyebrow at nothing as he continues rubbing her back. Who said that? Do they  _ want _ to risk their life? “I don’t know if it’s true or not. I don’t know if it’ll work. But orgasms can apparently make it feel better.”

“Is that all?” Dante glances down at her, and Vanica nods. Her lips are curved into a sweet smile now, a familiar little flush of excitement in her cheeks. She’s so beautiful.

Dante leans down to kiss her, fingers tracing the line of her spine as he draws her impossibly closer, flush up against his chest. Her pleased little sigh and the way she threads her fingers through his hair to draw him down more has him smiling against her lips. If all it takes to make Vanica feel better is to make her come, Dante is more than happy to proceed with such a task. He likes making her come as is, without incentive.

Well, there is always incentive, he supposes. Like watching her face when she comes.

“How do you want me to make you come?” He kisses the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the side of her throat. A bruise kissed and bitten into her skin peeks just above the top of her gown, and he can’t remember if that came from him, or if it came from Zenon.

“We just put down new bedding. I don’t want to change it all.” Vanica tips her head back and he kisses her throat again. Slips a hand around to her side, petting down to the curve of her hip. The nightgown is one of the short ones. It barely covers the tops of her thighs.

Dante hums in understanding, slipping his fingers under the gown, tracing the line of the silk panties beneath. “Where, then? And how do you want me to do it?”

“I’m sore, so… Just your mouth.” Vanica kisses him on the jaw this time, and Dante closes his eyes, reveling in her closeness, the gentleness she only reserves for him and for Zenon. No one else could ever be worthy of it. “And a chair, I think. We can put a towel down.”

“As you wish.” Dante takes her hand and kisses it, then slips out of bed to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. “Choose whatever chair you’d like and I’ll be right back to assist.”

He chooses a dark towel so Vanica doesn’t have to be more self-conscious than she must already be, given how he had to wheedle the information out of her to begin with. When he returns, she’s perched on the edge of one of the armchairs in the far corner of the room, and Dante eyes the fireplace. It is winter, and Vanica’s nightgown is nearly transparent in the harsh silver light spilling into the room. A fire, then, to help her stay warm.

On the way to her, he picks his cape up and gives it a light shake. This, too, just in case. He wants her to focus on nothing but pleasure, to relax. Being cold won’t allow her that.

“I don’t need that, Dante-nii,” Vanica complains as soon as he holds the cape out to her, but she takes it anyway, fastening it around her throat. Good girl.

“Well, I don’t like it when you’re cold. Here.” Dante hands her the towel and moves to the fireplace, and Vanica huffs at him but goes about getting herself situated while he coaxes the flames to life. They usually keep it lit for most of the winter, anyway. At least Zenon will curl up next to it and read when the hour draws late enough. Sometimes, anyway.

When he turns back around, Vanica is shimmying out of her panties. Dark silk pools around her ankles, and he can see the cloth she uses to catch the blood from her cycle. Can see it stained deep red, no different than the rest of her skin in the midst of battle.

What kind of a brother would he be if something so small was enough to put him off?

Vanica sets them on the end table and relaxes back into the chair, and Dante takes his place kneeling at her feet, hands smoothing to smooth up her soft, smooth legs. “Let me know if you get cold. We can always stop to find you a pair of socks.”

“Shut up.” Vanica kicks him in the shoulder before curling her leg around him, trying to draw him closer. The scarlet of her visible eye gleams hungry and bright.

Such a good girl. Dante presses her back into the chair, slips his hands around her hips and tugs her a bit closer to the edge. When her legs come up to rest on his shoulders, he lets them so she feels balanced and secure. And then he kisses her stomach, bared where she has her nightgown tugged up to grant him access to her soft, gleaming cunt.

He rubs his thumb across her lower belly. “Let me know if it just hurts, and we can stop.”

“I know.” Vanica sets her hands on top of his head, fingers curling in his hair. “Go on.”

The swell of her vulva is smeared with blood but Dante does not so much as flinch as he leans in to kiss her soft, warm lips. He remembers battle and bloodshed and the coppery tang on his tongue as he felled yet another enemy, chasing that violence in his veins to the ends of the earth. This is far gentler, more comforting, because this is Vanica, this is his sister, his beloved darling, and she needs him to help her feel better.

He licks the blood off of her skin and sucks her folds into his mouth, glancing up when he hears her soft, familiar intake of breath. The edge to her smile softens now and the fingers in his hair curl just a little tighter, keeping him anchored in place on his knees. Dante squeezes her hips just a little and closes his eyes, devoting himself wholly to this task. Please his sister. Help relieve the pain he wishes he could heal with his own hands.

Dante kisses her cunt like he kisses her lips, open-mouthed and wet and hard enough that Vanica arches her hips up to his face. Presses his face deep into her and shudders when she drags her nails across his scalp, answering with a little whine of her own. Gorgeous.

“More.” Vanica tugs his hair a little and Dante smiles into her skin.

His hands slide down her hips and under her thighs so he can get them on her pussy like he wants, pulling her folds open and dragging his tongue up to her clit. It would have been too much for some but Vanica rolls her hips into it gladly, and Dante focuses just on this spot for a moment. Just here, where she throbs and pulses with need the most, curling his tongue around her clit. Wrapping his lips around it to suck until she writhes against him.

Then, he sits back on his heels and looks up at her. “Too much?” Licks the wetness off of his lips, earthy and coppery, and he can taste that she’s wet through the blood.

Vanica looks down at him, eyelid heavy, her hands still twisted in his hair. The flush in her face makes him hope she’s warm. “There’s blood on your chin. It doesn’t taste gross?”

“It’s blood. It tastes like blood.” Dante shrugs at her, leaning in close enough to lick up her slit again. Just so he can watch her eye flutter shut, her head tip back on a sigh.

“If it doesn’t bother you.” She wiggles her hips again and he acquiesces, slower this time. Letting her feel every drag of his tongue, over her entrance, the small folds around her clit. He can feel the muscles in her thigh jumping. “Mm, that feels so good…”

He smirks against her skin. Wraps his lips around her clit and sucks until she moans for him, then swipes his tongue over her spasming hole. “Of course it doesn’t bother me.”

If she was feeling better, he would invite her to sit on his face just to prove to her how little it bothers him. For now, he will simply have to do his level best to reassure her.

Focusing on her clit makes her come fast and hard but Dante wants to take his time, so he presses his tongue into her cunt and licks inside of her. The taste of blood here is much stronger but it doesn’t bother him even now. Instead, he just licks through it, listening to the sound of his grimoire shifting restlessly on the armoire across the room.

Not needing it this morning, he left it lying next to his siblings’. Now, it flips open, and the flutter of pages makes Vanica shift against his mouth. “Dante-nii, what are you doing—”

Body magic, as far as Dante is concerned, is completely useless. The healing aspect has been useful in close situations but for the most part, his own body is not enough to do anything he  _ wants _ to do in battle. But it’s useful for this, and he has honed certain aspects of it to a fine art. Like the way his tongue lengthens and curls and Vanica  _ yelps. _

“Oh, oh, oh.” Her hands tighten in his hair and she crushes his head between her thighs, supple and strong enough that he’ll be sore when she’s done riding his face. “ _ Dante _ —”

The control he has over  _ this, _ now, is flawless. Vanica arches forward until she’s almost on top of him. Until he has to haul her back by the hips and pin her to the chair, keeping her where he wants her as his tongue twists inside of her. Far more mobile than it should be.

There are a lot of things he can do just like this. Only for Vanica. Only for Zenon.

Like twist his tongue up and  _ press, _ and Vanica all but shrieks as she claws at his scalp. He can’t touch this part of her with his tongue and no magic, has to use his fingers because it’s just out of reach to do anything meaningful, but with magic? Dante chuckles up at her, rubbing her thighs to calm her down even as he repeatedly licks over that spot.

“Fuck!” Vanica rears against his hold again, and he thinks longingly of Lucifero’s magic and what she might do if he pins her down with that. Instead, he just uses his hands. “Oh,  _ oh! _ ”

_ I wouldn’t risk it unless you want to arouse Megicula’s interest. _ The voice is in his head and in his ears and Dante agrees, because that would be messy. Because Megicula would not be above pinning him down and smothering him, something she had done the first time he agreed to play with her. Because she likes to  _ experiment, _ and no human is out of range of her devious experiments. Except for one, because that was part of the deal.

So he uses just his own magic. Uncurls his tongue from where he has it pressed up against the top of her cunt and licks  _ deep, _ licks  _ far. _ Because his body magic is useful for this alone and the absolutely beautiful sound Vanica makes, high-pitched and needy, when he licks her  _ cervix _ is music to his ears. Only Dante can give this to her. No one else has the ability.

It makes a mess out of his face and out of her thighs, but he can clean them both up later. And when she feels on the very edge of coming, spasming so wildly around his tongue, Dante leans back altogether. Watches her swear as she punches the arm of the chair.

The wood creaks, like she might have almost done serious damage to it.  _ Calm down. _

He lets his tongue go back to its actual size so he can lick her clit again, wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling her back up against his face. Vanica gets the right idea, grinding herself against his face, more than happy to use him for her own pleasure and gain. And he lets her even as he sucks her clit, rolling his tongue over it.

“Dante, Dante.” Vanica chants his name,  _ just _ his name, which is almost as good as when she breaks down to just begging her big brother to take care of her. “Please, I’m close.”

When he pulls off of her cunt this time, Vanica growls down at him. The air pulses with the rhythm of her mana but Dante only smiles up at her, because she would never actually use it on him. Not now. Not like this. “Are you close? Are you going to come for me?”

“Yes.” Vanica’s hands tighten in his hair like she can rein him back in, but Dante is bigger than her, stronger than her. Without magic, she can’t budge him. “C’mon, hurry up.”

He pets her thighs instead, watching them tremble. Watching the muscles in her stomach twitch. Watching her clit throb and pulse, her hole closing around nothing. “I love you,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say to convey  _ everything _ in his chest.

“I love you, too.” Vanica whines at him and Dante laughs, leaning in to finish the job.

She comes trembling against his mouth, so wet and sweet and easy, just like when she was a shy young girl asking him for a timid first kiss. Dante kisses and licks her through it, his hands soft on her hips and thighs now, caressing her to calm her. To settle her.

When he leans back to look up at her, Vanica covers her face with her hands. His heart jumps in his chest when he realizes she’s crying. “Vanica? Sweetheart, are you all right?”

“Shut up for a second. I’m fine.” Vanica heaves a little into her hands and Dante hovers on his knees, then just… Wraps his arms around her and waits for her to give him a clue about what to do. “The way you looked up at me. I wasn’t ready for that, and I’m just. Emotional.”

“I do love you,” he reminds her, and she smacks him on the shoulder and laughs a little. Her visible eye is wet. There’s a spot growing on her eyepatch. Oh, darling…

Vanica sniffles a little and then sits up, and her hands are gentle in his hair this time, smoothing the strands she mussed and rumpled back off of his forehead. “I know you do, I believe you. Also, you’re a mess. It looks like I shattered your nose or something.”

“Mm, I don’t mind. It wasn’t bad at all.” If Dante is being honest with himself, he stopped noticing the taste as soon as he let himself get into her reactions, her vocalizations.

Vanica is all-consuming. She takes all of his attention when it’s just the two of them.

“Let’s wash up and go downstairs. I’m sure Zenon is worried.” Vanica rolls her eye, swiping away a stray tear from her lower lashes. “And… Thank you. I feel much better now.”

“Any time, little sister.” Dante grins at her, and Vanica leans down, her lips brushing his forehead.  _ That _ makes his chest hurt a little more than he expects.

“I”ll remember that.” She pushes him back so she can stand, dropping his cape and pulling her nightgown up and over her head. “Bath now. And if you’re good, I’ll return the favor.”

Who is he to argue with that offer?

**Author's Note:**

> nobody loves their siblings as much as dante zogratis loves his siblings
> 
> there's also a lot of headcanon stuff going on here but yknow


End file.
